Doctors Orders
by FandomFanFiks
Summary: SLOW BURN! Maybe he's lost in thought. Maybe he didn't even hear me. Maybe—- "... Sit ." He tells me, his voice low and sharp. I guess he does remember me.
1. Chapter 1

I sat fuming, For many reasons, a few unknown and one in particular.

Him.

I held in another sigh and breathed in, trying not to wince from the bruising. The strong smell of his cologne only added to my pounding headache. I have raging pms at the moment, which led to a fight this morning right outside of my church.

I should have not opened up as much as I should, it is not because I don't want to... It's because I feel too self conscious in front him. I don't know if I can even complete an entire sentence without stuttering or sounding like a complete idiot. It's hard to speak to him directly or even hold his gaze when he speaks to me.

I'm sorry, but Dr. Lecture is not the kind of man I want to spill my guts to. As soon as I met him I cursed myself for existing that day. I assume that his other patients actually find him to be trusting and caring, but he doesn't fool me with his clean cut demeanor, calm and gentle toned voice. And that accent of his, is that like a secret weapon of his? I know he's judgmental— very judgmental. I saw and felt it the second he laid his wolf like eyes on me.

A wolf in sheep's clothing. Very expensive sheep's clothing.

I stared down at nothing in particular, clenching and unclenching my jaw from anger. Today will make this our third session together. Although, it was not my idea to attend therapy, I sort of had no choice in the matter. It was either this or be sent off to Followers of the Cross Camp.

No way in hell that was happening.

Our last two sessions passed by pretty fast without me spilling my brain out to him. Sure he tried asking the usual- like all shrinks do, but I stood my ground by not giving anything away.

I've been here for almost 20 minutes and not much has been said. As he sat across from me with a soft expression and dressed to kill, his gaze rest intently on me. I feel nervous and extremely self conscious. Especially, since I look like hot crap today, well, scratch that, every day I look like hot crap. I don't know if he's trying to read me or if he's lost in thought or maybe just plain out bored, maybe even disgusted by my mere presence.

I bet he sprays his chair with Lysol when I leave.

"You're angry," He states, that smooth voice breaks my train of thought as I look up to meet his stare. Bingo, babe!

He tilts his head a bit, eyes narrowing slightly in thought, "What's troubling you?".

My heart jolts a few times as I stare at my lap. He was reading me. I wish he would look away so I could stop sucking in my stomach.

My gosh, no decency.

I wasn't about to tell the man I'm having raging PMS at the moment. I swallowed as I chose my words wisely. I debated whether or not I should actually tell him what happened at church. I mean, do I really want him to know how bad of a temper I actually have? What would he think?

Oh, the hell with it.

"I got into a scuffle right after church," my eyes traveled upwards to catch him nod in thought.

A scuffle was putting it lightly.

"What happened?" He asks.

I looked down, debating on what to say or how to say it without sounding vulgar. I wiped at my lemon pattern dress that's a tad bit too tight in the derrière.

"She threatened me and I just snapped. I pushed her, she pushed me. I grabbed her by the back of her neck then she threw a punch my way and I threw her to the ground, hard," She ended up with a fractured wrist but I didn't need to let him know that part. He must already think I'm immature after telling him I fought outside of church. I'm surprised I've said this much.

I sighed, "The priest was actually the one to break us apart by throwing holy water on us," I looked down, ashamed.

Did I really have to add that part in? Ugh.

"Did you feel threatened by her?" He asks, hoping to somehow break down my walls.

I rolled my eyes mentally. No, babe.

"I feel threatened by no one," I stated.

Silence makes itself present right after. I sure shut him down fast. I don't know what to say right now, maybe he's waiting for me to continue? I want to look up at him to see his expression, maybe try to catch something flicker in his eyes to let me know what is going on in that head of his.

Still feeling his eyes on me, mine travel up to stop and stare back at him. My thoughts head down south from the way he looks sitting down with his leg crossed over his knee as his hands rest in his lap. The man looks like he's posing for a magazine cover. And here I am, a 25 year old fat girl with anger issues sitting in a office that is worth more than my entire existence telling a man who is literally hotter than hell how I feel? He probably thinks I eat cake all day. I'm as pathetic as they come. This man probably seen crap better looking than me, yet I sit here and have the nerve to stare back at him?

That's it.

I look away and stand up, not giving him another look as I turn to leave, giving him my back, "I'm sorry, I have to go." I say, not giving him time to even stand up and ask what's wrong. I walk out, closing the door behind me.

I let out a breath, finally able to stop sucking in my stomach as I Power walk as fast as I could to the elevator. "Hurry up, shit ass!" I slap the button repeatedly as I look back to see if he might of followed after me. No one in sight. I breath a sigh of relief. The doors open for me to walk in.

Than again, why would he?

I shake my fat head as the doors close, feeling angry and embarrassed at myself. I shouldn't have told him about the fight. I shouldn't have said anything at all. I don't know what I even thought about coming to this weeks appointment.

Today is my last and final session with this man.

—

After telling my mother about not wanting to go back to therapy, she goes on to tell me how Dr. lecture is the best around and I should be lucky to have him as my therapist, but I didn't care.

It was all bullshit to me.

She agreed to not me go back only if I agree to start working on my anger issues by attending church twice every week and bible study. Of course I agreed just to get her off my back...

For now.

As I sat in bed, staring at my tv while not actually watching it my mind kept reminding me how stupid I am for thinking I could open up to him. "Stupid fuckin' idiot!" I cursed myself, groaning.

My. Life. Sucks.

I decided to get this shit over with and finally be done with him. I grabbed the card he gave me after our first session from my night stand. It's simple and sharp. It displays his info along with his office number and email.

Being that I've never done something like this before I had no choice but to google how to write a termination letter to my psychiatrist. I clicked a few links, read over some sample letters, rolled my eyes multiple times at how professional they all were.

Bullshit.

I filled out the contact info and subject then wrote him the basics:

**I do not wish to continue our sessions. **

**Please terminate our contract. **

**Thank you. **

I shook my head as I read over it. Terrible yet simple and to the point. With a shaky finger I hit send.

"Good riddance, Hanni!" I grab my cardigan and snuggle under my blanket with it bunched up close to my face.

I'm out of his life and he's out of mine.

I fall asleep breathing in the smell of his dark cologne.

—-

3 months later.

"So, how was your weekend?" I hear Will ask from behind me as we try to set up each table as best as we can with little time.

"It was fine..." I look over my shoulder and see him fixing a table for two. He is lookin' mighty fine in his all black work attire. "How was yours?" I ask, turning around to fix another table.

"I went out on a date with an old friend. We Had a really nice time, I actually forgot how fun she could be." He tells me, cheery.

Yippy. Hoorah-hooray.

"Oh, that sounds nice!" I say over my shoulder. Feeling bad when I shouldn't. I may like Will but he does not like me. We're just friends, I guess.

"Hey, what happened to your lip?"

Shit. I forgot to cover up.

"Oh, I cut it on a soda can." I told him, hoping he would believe. Would I believe it?

"Looks pretty bad..." he adds, letting me know he's not buying it. Of course he doesn't. My lip is pretty bad split.

"Fine. It's not from a soda can!" I waved over my shoulder, confessing. I hear him stop what he's doing to feel his questioning gaze claw at my back.

He sighed, "Who did you fight with this time?"

—

It's been a week and my stupid lip hasn't healed an inch! I rushed back and forth around the bar, taking down orders and trying to make them perfect for our customers satisfaction.

Assholes.

"Would you mind taking table 79 a bottle of our finest red wine!" Will rushes to grab the drinks I already had waiting for him. "Will, I can't leave the bar—"

"—I got it covered as soon as drop off these drinks I'll come right back!" He assures me.

It's a busy night and we're short on servers, as usual. Will is trying his best to seat people and get down their drink orders to bring back to me.

I furrowed my brows, not sure if he made a mistake. "Will!" I go around the bar, leaving potential tips from customers. He stops in a haste. "Did you say table 7—"

"—-YEP!" He dashes off. Huh... I don't remember the last time someone dined up there. I take in a breath, still not sure if he made a mistake. If I go all the way up that narrow tiny spiral staircase to see no one sitting in that dark dining area I will fuck will up. He knows I hate upstairs, it freaks the hell out of me. I got a move on, making my way into the back room where the wines were stored. I found one of our most expensive bottles priced at a whopping 100 buckaroos!

Pretty expensive to me. I don't know if these idiots are expecting a 20 year old bottle of aged wine at a local Italian restaurant.

"This will have to do." I say, grabbing a cork screw and two wine glasses that had the least bit of finger prints. It's a dim lit setting in this place, so hopefully they won't notice.

I make my way across the floor to the spiral staircase near the corner of the restaurant. As I walk up, I pray no one can see up my skirt. I sigh, making it up without tripping or dropping anything. Immediately, I feel weary being up here for the first time in ages. People rarely sit up here, there's not much to enjoy, unless you like a darkly lit, quiet and cold place to eat.

I look to see no one seated at any of the tables closest to the front. I know this upstairs is damn haunted. I swallow, walking further to see if they maybe sat at the back where it is closed off more.

Bingo!

I see the back of a head seated at a table nearest to the back wall where the ceiling lights fail to reach, having it lit only from the candle light chandelier that hangs down, create a soft orange glow.

"They must really want their privacy," I mumble, walking up. I really hope I pour this wine without spilling it all over. As I near I slow down, seeing only one person seated.

Maybe the other person hasn't shown up—-

Slowly, he turns his head slightly, enough to show the side of his face as he keeps his eyes down, letting me know he's aware of my presence.

"Fuckin' hell..." I grit my teeth, not believing this shit. Out of all the fucking places. I debate wether or not if I should just turn around and run. Pretend I forgot something, anything! It's been almost 4 months maybe he forgot what I look like. Lord knows I'm no head turner.

Eff it.

There's no turning back now. I'll just look like an even bigger coward if I run away, like last time. Plus, this is just a coincidence of him being here.

Has to be.

I'm trying not to let my nerves show as I walk up to his table. Shit! I forgot to suck in my stomach. And of course he looks up to place his eye piercing stare is on me the second I'm in front of him. He doesn't even bother to look at the bottle of wine, why when he can burn me alive with his eyes. I place the cups and bottle down, not letting my shaky hands show, I don't even greet him as I start opening the bottle, I haven't laid an eye on him. I keep my focus completely on the bottle in front of me, trying my best to block him from my side view.

Maybe he recognizes me?

I decided not to be a complete asshole and sum up enough courage to greet him. I mean it's not like things ended badly, I don't think there's any hard feelings. He probably could care less about me ending it.

Geez, I talk about it like we were in some kind of relationship.

"Good evening." It comes out forced, why I don't know. I didn't want it too, now it seems I have an attitude.

He says nothing, not even a nod of acknowledgement. I'm afraid to even look his way, I don't know what I might see, especially the look of him glaring at me under this lighting would send me crying in a corner. From my side view I can't make out his expression exactly. Maybe he's lost in thought. Maybe he didn't even hear me. Maybe—-

"... Sit." He tells me, his voice low and sharp.

I guess he does remember me.

—

Please, excuse spelling and grammar errors! Drop me a comment, let know if i should continue?


	2. Chapter 2: The Lion's Den

I guess he does remember me.

I paused in the middle of uncorking the bottle, not knowing what to do exactly?

"Thank you, but I have to—-"

"—-I insist." He cuts me off, his voice is the same as before. Annoyed by his persistence, I decided to sit and see what the bastard wants exactly. I leave the bottle half uncorked to slowly place myself to sit down, praying to God I'll slide in without a hard time from my fat self. I keep my gaze on the table cloth, watching the flame of the candle dance around.

Moments pass and I don't look up to meet his... stare. I feel like I'm right back in therapy again. If he tries to kill me no one would be able to hear all the way up here! I hope Will comes to save me. This is so stupid. What does this bimbo want? Is he expecting an apology from me or something—

"Are you intimidated by _me_?" He questions, in a low tone. So, this is why he came here? To ask me the question, as he did back in therapy, only now it's about him. Does he want to know if I'm Intimidated by him? Is this what's been weighing on his mind? I snap my head up, regretting it the second I did. The look he's giving me under this light tells me he is no mood for bullshit. Bullshit. I wonder if he uses that phrase? Hmm...

As he sits across from me, the candlelight creates a soft glow around his intimidating stare. I keep still, staring back, and I can't help but wonder if there's a bit of pride secretly in the back of his eyes.

I try my best to keep from showing any emotion. Not like last time when I gave away a bit too much. Damn me for being so weak at that moment! I do not want nor do I need him to know how much effect he actually has on me, which is hard when his wolf eyes leave me no room to even breathe! "No," I tell him, which is a damn lie. Of course, I am. Very much intimated by him. I mean who wouldn't be? The man is the definition of the word in human form.

_How can he look so good in this lighting? I bet my face looks like an oily mess right now, as opposed to him, his tan skin glows under the orange light._

I narrow my eyes at his unwavering gaze, noticing his jaw is set hard, like a stone. He's doing that thing again… Trying to figure me out, pry his way into my thoughts and break down my walls. He was hoping to catch me off guard with his question, hoping to catch some kind of emotion slip from my eyes. Well, I think not. You may have gotten me last time, but not today.

Clearly, The man has issues.

Why am I even sitting here answering him? What does he think we're going to have a therapy session right here upstairs at my job. There's a lot of questions swarming around my head right now. There's no question that he planned this. That's definite. Condensed? My fat ass! The fact that he got the address to work from my file and decided to pay me a visit after months, just to ask me if I'm intimidated by him—well, it rings looney bells to me. Why does my opinion matter to him? Obviously, that question has been burning him inside.

Enough that he had to ask me in person.

"Well, I hope I answered your question." I stood up, and of course, those sharp eyes of his looked me over, giving me a quick judgmental once over before they flew back up.

Fucking prick!

"If you will excuse me, I must get back to my job. take care, doctor." I finished, turning to walk away, happy I did not bump into the table and knock everything down which would have ruined my smooth exit.

I'm surprised he had nothing more to say, and even more surprised I got the final say.

Finally, the restaurant was coming to closing, and I was just wiping down the counter, trying to keep my mind busy. After leaving him upstairs with his cheap wine, I went back to work right away, trying my best to focus my attention on the rude customers rather then him. But, knowing he was upstairs and would be walking down at any second put me on edge for some reason. I tried hard not to look up every 5 seconds in hopes of seeing him walk through the crowd of customers to leave. And, to my surprise he did without me seeing, how? I have no idea. I kept an eye out for him, but I guess he left the same way he came in without me noticing.

Sneaky bastard.

After closing, I said a quick goodbye to Will and drove home.

As I laid awake in bed, my mind kept racing with questions. I have no idea what to think of what happened tonight. The thought that I should be worried, very worried; lingered in the back of my mind, but I kept pushing it away. I did not want to settle on the fact that I should be worried or I should feel some type of concern… A major part of me, just wants to forget about it, and wake up free of any thoughts of him possibly being crazy? Maybe he's not. Maybe I just jumped to conclusions about him being looney bells. Maybe he just really wanted to know If I was intimidated by him….

"BUT WHY? WHY WOULD IT MATTER IF I WERE OR NOT?" I sighed, feeling frustrated.

I need answers. Answers I wasn't going to get…

Unless….

"No… Just—No way."

I shook my head at the thought. I would be a fool to think about actually doing it…

"But… It wouldn't hurt." I concluded.

—-

I turned the same corner for the 20th time in the last past hour or so, trying to sum up the courage to actually go through with my plan.

But, of course, I had a lot of time to think since last week and…. Now, I'm just not so sure how it will go. I already drove past a couple of times (15, to be exact) but, to actually walk in—well, it takes way more courage than had I thought since it's different this time.

I'm not his patient anymore.

I lifted my foot the pedal, slowing down and scanning the premises for anything… eye-catching. "Hmm…" A new car has parked in one of the empty spaces since my last check from here to McDonald's.

Let's get this shit over with…

I parked, got out and walked into the building to see it was very much empty, no patents are waiting to be seen, but before I could hurry to run over to the elevator, I was spotted.

"Hi, how are you!" The woman greeted me, surprised to see me.

Shitshitshitshit! Double shit!

I smiled walking over, "Hi, so nice to see you!" I power walked passed her as her eyebrows shot up in confusion.

"Hey—wait! Excuse me, ma'am!"

I pressed the arrow button as fast as my chubby finger could, praying she wouldn't get to me in time.

"MA'AM! WAIT THIS SECOND—"

The elevator door opened as she got closer, "YOU CAN'T—"

Too late.

I hurried and pressed the floor number just as the door closed, canceling her protests. Thank goodness! Now, I can get what I came for. Of course, I had a lot of time to think since last night, given that I had slept and now…. Well, today woke up wanting to forget the whole thing. But, I thought about last night and I—well, dammit, I just can't let it go.

As soon as the door opened I stepped out, feeling a swarm of nerves attack my insides, but I chose to ignore it and walk to stand in front of the door.

He probably already knows I'm here, anyway.

I debated whether or not if I should knock. I mean, it would be the right thing to do. But…. I'm not looking to do the right thing. I turned the sleek handle, pushed it open to walk in with my head held high. I must keep a confident attitude and not let my nerves get the best of me.

Huh…

It's just as I remembered it before: Clean and sleek looking, smelling heavily of that cologne. The smell of it on my cardigan has faded a lot, just a trace of it lingers and I have no plans of washing it. I eyed the place, seeing that the seating area where he knit picks his patent's brains is empty— the phone rings, making me jump, almost.

I can only guess who's calling.

From the corner of my eye, I see he is seated behind his desk and I watch as he calmly reaches over to answer the phone— No greeting is made on his part, he just sits and listens for a few seconds.

"…. Yes... I'm aware..."

I would be lying if very unholy thoughts did not flood my head when I heard him speak low into the phone.

"…I will handle it…." He hangs up the phone and immediately I feel his scrutinizing gaze settle on me.

I feel my heart tighten almost painfully from the feel of his eyes eating me alive from right where I stand. Should I turn to face him? No, not yet. I'll wait for a little before I turn to face him…

I take a deep breath, praying my voice won't crack mid-sentence and give me away.

"I apologize for the intrusion, Doctor," I say, walking over to the bookshelf, and oh my—do I feel his eyes clawing at my back. I pretend to read over a few titles, not at all interested as I hold my hands behind my back to keep them from shaking, not even ready to look his way, yet. He stays silent, watching me closely, waiting for me to give an explanation for my sudden intrusion. But, as the seconds pass, my courage vanishes—POOF! Out the window, it goes. My hands are sweating and start to tingle from nerves as Realization hits me hard and my nerves go off.

I really can't believe I actually walked into the lion's den.

Short-I know! Sorry. I want to thank everyone for the love they showed so far! Hope to hear from you guys!


	3. Chapter 3: A NOTE

**hi guys! **

**I updated but haven't got any feedback which is discouraging and I don't know if I should just leave this story to die...**

**let me know if you want me to continue this story.**


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